


you cant blame me for being this way

by Princex_N



Category: Lazer Team (2015)
Genre: (different from the ADHD), ADHD, Anger, Conversations, Diagnosis, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Intellectual Disability, Neurodiversity, Post-Canon, Team as Family, past bullying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-28
Updated: 2017-08-28
Packaged: 2018-12-21 00:25:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11932485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Princex_N/pseuds/Princex_N
Summary: The first thing Zach feels when they first tell him is anger.





	you cant blame me for being this way

**Author's Note:**

> Here's that Zach fic I mentioned like, actual months ago lol

The first thing that Zach feels when the psychologist stops talking is anger. 

He can't really explain what it is that he's angry about, but he is  _really_ angry about it. The psychologist sits there with an expectant look on her face, clearly waiting to hear what Zach has to say in response to her revelations, and Zach gets that jittery angry feeling under his skin that never seems to get less annoying. 

He manages to sit still for all of thirty seconds before he's on his feet and storming out of the small office, completely ignoring the sound of the psychologist calling out after him. He's not really interested in anything that she has to say to him at the moment, and he needs to get out of there before he does something stupid. 

He goes to the shooting range, and spends some time doing target practice. Most of the time, he's not hitting the actual targets, but his aim  _has_ improved slightly since he first put the canon on, and it doesn't really matter to him anyway. The kickback of the gun and the sound of impact is what he's looking for at the moment, and it doesn't matter to him if it's the target or the back wall that he's hitting. 

He still can't quite figure out what he's pissed about. He would have thought that he'd have felt relieved or something, but he doesn't. He's just mad about it. He's mad at everything and anything, and he can't throw a ball or a punch like he used to be able to, so instead he blows shit up and tries not to think for a while. 

It goes fine, up until someone grabs him by the shoulder, and Zach is bringing up the laser gun on instinct and aiming it at whatever's got him, and the sound of Woody's panicked squawking is the only thing that stops him from firing. 

"Fuck!" he snaps, lowering his arm quickly. "Don't sneak up on me like that." 

Woody nods rapidly and squeaks out apologies before going quiet, and there's a moment of silence where they both just look at each other and catch their breath before Woody blurts out, "They said you got mad," and Zach's stomach sort of drops. 

"Yeah. So what?" he bites out, almost defensive before he remembers who it is he's talking to. Fucking  _Woody_ , who's standing there with a dumb look on his face behind that stupid visor, and if Zach was going to talk about this with anyone, it might as well be him. "They said I have ADHD." 

Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder. Apparently, it means that you have a hard time sitting still or paying attention, and sometimes it makes people aggressive or impulsive, basically everything that Zach has been his entire life. 

Woody nods and doesn't look surprised, but does seem almost confused. "Why're you mad about that, then?" he asks, and Zach still doesn't really know how to explain. He shrugs and glances away back towards the targets instead, and tries to work out if he even really wants to talk about this in the first place. 

"It was a relief for me, when I found out," Woody starts suddenly, and Zach's about to ask why the fuck Woody would be relieved about Zach's diagnosis when the other man continues on with, "Like... I had been trying hard all my life, but I just couldn't get any of it right, and I thought that it was my fault. Only it's not.  _I_ didn't do anything wrong, I was just sort of made this way." 

Zach's confused for a minute before realizing that Woody is talking about  _himself_ , and then it makes perfect sense. 

Because Zach remembers Woody from before. He hadn't really  _known_ him, but he had known him in the way that everybody from Milford knows everybody else. He remembers seeing Woody in the halls at school, or on the street, or during games and practices, and how everybody either ignored him or talked about him. About how he could barely read, and couldn't tie his shoes right, or understand what you said to him half the time. 

Zach hadn't really thought about him much before, but now that he is, he wonders why Woody isn't angrier. 

Because Zach _is_ angry, sort of all the time, and it's because of bullshit like that. Shit like teachers yelling at him to sit still and pay attention, and other kids laughing about how he'd probably get held back and wouldn't be able to graduate, and the football coach always bitching about his grades, and his parents never shutting the  _fuck_ up about how he really should be doing better than he had been. Getting held down and slapped around because he couldn't just shut up and sit still like people wanted him to. And the anger is still there, and he fires his gun and feels a thrill of bitter satisfaction at the ensuing explosion of wood and cardboard. 

" _That's_ why I'm so angry," he finally says, whirling back around to face Woody, who's still standing there expectantly. "It wasn't my fault, but no one ever listened to me when I told them that, and they got mad at me and yelled at me and hit me for it, but it wasn't even my fault. It's bullshit."

It's like he's realizing how everything in his life could have gone so much smoother and easier if people had just taken the time to take him seriously for once. He could have avoided so much bullshit if someone had caught this when he was a kid, instead of it taking nineteen years for someone to finally see. 

And Woody is nodding along like that makes sense and like he gets it, and he probably actually does. Maybe even better than Zach can. "Yeah, it's shite alright. But, you know now at least?" He looks questioningly at Zach and shrugs a little, like it's the best he can offer. 

"Why aren't  _you_ angry?" Zach finds himself asking. "People treated you like shit worse than they treated me like shit." 

Zach, at least, had been the best player on the football team, and people tolerated him because of that. Woody never had anything like that. 

Woody glances off to the side like he's remembering something, and sort of grimaces. "I was, once. I got really angry, but people got nervous when I shouted, and I got the cops called on me once, and I decided that I didn't like making people nervous like that, and so I decided not to get upset about it anymore." 

He says it like that makes any sort of sense at all, and then he kind of grins sheepishly, like he's only just realized that it's completely nonsensical. "I think it made more sense when I was younger." 

Zach has had the cops called on him loads of times, mostly because he's, as other people put it, "an impulsive bastard" with a tendency to throw punches and ask questions later. He's never really considered it a big deal, even though his parents loathed him for it. 

"Anyway, you don't have to be angry about it anymore if you don't want to," Woody continues. "ADHD is manageable with medication," he says, his eyes flickering around like they do whenever he's looking at something on the helmet. "And you've got me and Herman and Hagan, so you don't have to worry about people treating you like shit anymore, either." 

Zach realizes that it's true. Already since the aliens showed up and got their asses kicked, Hagan and Herman both have been arguing back against the military dudes who yell at Zach or Woody, and it had seemed sort of weird, but also not all that different from how Hagan sometimes "arrested" Zach before he could do something really stupid and get himself into even more trouble. And Woody probably wouldn't punch someone for Zach the way Zach punches people for him, but he would intervene some other way to get someone to back off. 

"Yeah, you're right," Zach says slowly, and Woody beams at him. "Plus, we're the fucking Champions of Earth, dude, no one's gonna mess with our shit anymore." 

"Right!" Woody says happily, grinning excitedly behind the visor, like he's glad he managed to do this whole thing right. 

And it's not really as easy as Woody makes it seem -just not having to be mad about it anymore. Zach's been angry for a while, and he'll probably stay angry for a while, but he's right when he says that it's not a _pressing_ anger anymore. Zach's parents, teachers, and classmates aren't here to fuck with him anymore (and the same is true for Woody), and now there are people here to intervene where it's necessary. He doesn't have to fight back on his own anymore. 

He bumps the back of Woody's helmet with the laser canon lightly, "You want to help me aim this thing?" 

The mix of surprise and mirth on the other man's face before he starts to nod enthusiastically is enough to dissipate the lingering anger coiling in Zach's chest, at least for now. 

But probably for longer, too. 

**Author's Note:**

> [my tumblr](http://www.princex-n.tumblr.com)


End file.
